Time After Time
by Amas Nox
Summary: "If you're lost, you can look and you will find me."
1. Chapter 1

**Time After Time**

This takes place after Season 3 episode "Money Plane." Calleigh is injured and is in a coma for two years. When she finally wakes in 2007, she has to reclaim the life that had been passing her by.

Ducaine all the way.

Rating: T (for now)

* * *

**Sept. 15, 2007**

The day had promise.

Donna Matthews smiled to herself as she walked down the bright, sunlit hallways of Serenity Valley Assisted Living Facility's long-term care ward. The large, African-American woman walked at a brisk pace, a glass of orange juice in one hand and a book in the other. She nodded at some of her co-workers as she passed the main nurses' station and winked at an orderly who was passing around a tray of doughnuts.

The young man in light blue scrubs grinned broadly at his colleague.

"Mornin' Donna," he called after her as she continued her pace down the hall. "Want me to save a fritter for you?"

"No thanks, darlin'," she called back over her shoulder. "Had my breakfast already."

In fact, it had been a nice change in her routine. Her husband, Darryl, had woken up early, made blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon for their family before getting their two kids ready for school. As he loaded their son and daughter into their family van, he kissed her sweetly on the cheek, called her an "angel" and told her to have a good day at work.

She knew it wasn't often that Darryl went out of his way to be extra sweet, but when he did, he did it well. It had been the perfect start to her day.

Donna had been a nurse in the long-term care ward at the facility for almost 10 years. It had been her first job out of nursing school and after a few months there, she realized it was her calling. The majority of her patients were terminal comatose cases – ones that she knew from the times they were admitted would never wake from their deep slumbers. They were transfers from hospitals after the families and doctors had run out of treatment possibilities. Serenity Valley was the place where these patients would eventually pass away … most alone, with no family or friends at their side.

So while most of her colleagues kept a clinical detachment from their patients, Donna did everything she could to treat hers like family. On her breaks and lunches, she would sit at their sides, reading or just talking softly to them. She would tell them anything from things her family was doing to what was going on in the world. Though there were different schools of thought about the subject, she was convinced that having someone who cared for them nearby helped her coma patients rest more comfortably.

Once in awhile, a patient would have a family member or a friend visit, and in those times, Donna would allow them space, but still stayed close enough to answer the standard questions that were always posed: "How is he/she doing?" "Has there been any change?"

In those instances, the answers were almost always the same: Time will tell.

In this place, time was neither a friend nor an enemy. For the patients of the long-term care ward, time was an always progressing, non-existent entity. Donna found it comforting that her patients didn't know how much of their lives they were actually missing.

With a sigh, she came to the familiar room at the end of the hallway. The room was homey, decorated with pictures, a few stuffed animals and books. In the corner near the sleeping woman's bed was a gorgeous crystal vase of fresh flowers that were delivered and changed out by the same florist every week.

Donna set her book and juice down on the nightstand and stepped over to examine the recently delivered, fragrant tiger lilies, lightly touching one to feel the petal's velvety-softness. Smiling, she inhaled the exotic flowers scent.

"Your daddy did real good this week, sweetie," she told her patient, glancing sideways at the bed. "I think this bouquet suits you better than those boring old roses he sent last week did. You're a feisty one, just like these flowers, that's why you're still here with me."

No response came from the bed. Just the same, soft sounds of the woman's breathing. Tilting her head to the side, Donna walked to the window and opened the blinds slightly, letting the bright yellow rays of the sun into the dark room.

"There, that's better isn't it?" she asked soothingly as she turned and walked over to the bed.

Again – and predictably – her question was met with silence.

Taking the woman's hand in hers, Donna reached down and stroked the woman's blonde hair gently, as if tending to her own child. She paid special attention to avoid the long scar on the top of her patient's forehead near her hairline.

This particular patient had been at the ward for about two years. Donna knew from her records that she had been a police officer who was hurt in line of duty. The result was brain trauma. The prognosis was typical for the ward. The doctors assessed the woman's condition every six months, but there were never any signs of improvement or cognition. Her family and friends were told she would never recover, and she was brought here to die under the facility's loving care.

The woman was unmarried, had no children and her parents were divorced. Donna never saw the woman's mother. Every now and then, some of her friends or her father would come visit, but they never stayed very often.

There was, however, one man who stayed with her for hours on end. Many was the time that Donna had come to the room to find the familiar red-haired gentleman sitting quietly next to the bed, holding the woman's hand in his own. Sometimes, he would whisper things to her, but Donna could never make out what he was saying. She herself had only spoken to him a few times, but the conversations were short.

But she didn't need to talk to him to see how much he cared for her patient. He always seemed so sad. In a place like this, such an emotion was common, but he walked like a man who felt totally alone in the world would. And Donna felt compassion for him.

She was woman of strong faith. She believed in miracles. And while they were few and far between here on the ward, she never gave up on any of her patients. Especially those who had so much living left to do.

"Such a shame you're still here, honey," Donna said softly as she continued to dote on the woman. "I bet if you opened those pretty eyes of yours, that would make your handsome friend a happy man."

No response.

Shaking her head, Donna picked up her book and sat down in the plush chair next to the bed.

"I brought 'Sleeping Beauty' today," the kind nurse said as she opened to the first page. "I started reading it to my Aleesha last night. I know it's a fairy tale, but something tells me you can relate to the main character. At the very least, you know it's a love story with a good ending. I don't know about you, doll, but I'm a sucker for a story that ends with 'happily ever after.'"

An hour later, Donna folded the corner of the page she was on and closed the book. Standing up, she stretched, smoothing out her blue scrubs and checked her watch.

"Sorry darlin', but we'll have to continue this tomorrow," she said warmly, taking the woman's hand in her own and giving it a squeeze. "I'll be back at the regular time and maybe we can talk about finding a handsome prince for you."

She turned and started to pull her hand away when something stopped her cold. Turning back to the woman in the bed, she stilled her hand, wondering if what had just happened was a fluke.

Ever so carefully, Donna gently squeezed the woman's hand again and then waited, silently counting. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds.

Approximately one minute and thirteen seconds later, the woman's hand tightened slightly on Donna's.

The large woman smiled and covered her patient's hand, her nurse's training and patience kicking in. Leaning over the bed, she watched the sleeping woman's eyelids flicker once, twice, three times …

… and so very slowly, her eyes began to open.

And though she remained quiet and still, soon the green orbs traveled to her smiling companion. After a beat, she blinked.

Donna reached up and touched the woman's head with a mother's love as her patient's eyes began to focus on her.

"Welcome back, Calleigh," the nurse soothed softly as she stroked her hair. "You chose a good day to wake up. A very good day."

A day, Donna decided, that was definitely full of promise.

* * *

Any feedback? Should I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

**Time After Time**

This takes place after Season 3 episode "Money Plane." Calleigh is injured and is in a coma for two years. When she finally wakes in 2007, she has to reclaim the life that had been passing her by.

Ducaine all the way.

Rating: T (for now)

Lots of love to those who reviewed. Hope you like this next chapter!

* * *

She loved this place.

Calleigh sat on the beach with her legs propped up against her chest watching the white ocean waves swirl and crash. She basked in the warmth of the sun on her skin and listened contentedly to the ambient sound of nature. There was no harsh noise, no cars honking, no music playing, no cell phones blaring. There was just blessed silence.

It was too beautiful a day to leave this spot, so she continuously allowed herself a few minutes more. She marveled at the bright white sand and the clear blue waters that would occasionally wash up around her feet. The ocean seemed calm and limitless. The beach appeared to stretch on for miles.

She felt at complete peace.

It didn't bother her that there were no buildings, no other people sunbathing or swimming. She relaxed in her solitude and chose not to question it. She was totally at ease. Not a care in the world.

Every now and then, she would hear the faint sounds of someone talking, but never paid any attention, her gaze focused on the swirling ocean currents. Sometimes, she would feel the presence of a person near her, but when she turned to look, she always found herself alone.

She didn't mind, though. The entire time she had been there, she had an overwhelming sense that she was being protected. She didn't question that either.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting in that spot, nor did she care, reasoning that the sunlight had not changed in the sky therefore it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. She had time.

Plenty of time. Why should she leave?

"Calleigh."

The familiar voice caused her to divert her eyes away from the water and she looked up at the man now standing next to her. The bright sunlight cast a white aura around her dark-haired friend. Though she was surprised to see him, she smiled, happy that he had come to visit her. After all, they had not seen each other in a long time.

He had changed. No longer was he the scruffy, disheveled man she had known. There was no lean in his stance. He stood with a confidence she had never before seen in him. There was no self-deprecating smirk. His warm chocolate eyes were clear. He hadn't aged a day. He was clean-shaven, barefoot and dressed all in white. She could feel that he, too, was at peace.

And he was holding his hand out to her.

"It's time," he said soothingly, his deep voice causing small vibrations in her.

She nodded and took his hand, for she trusted him completely. Once she was standing, he smiled and touched her face softly.

"You need to go."

At his words, she tilted her head silently to the side, wondering where she was supposed to go. He removed his hand from her face and stretched his arm outward, pointing down the beach. She turned her head to see what he was directing her to. In the distance, she saw a man dressed in dark clothes standing with his back to them.

"He's waiting for you, Calleigh. He needs you to go back."

Still not understanding, she turned back to her old friend, shaking her head in confusion. Speed merely shrugged in response.

"I can't give you the answers, Cal," he replied. "You have to find them yourself. And you have to start by going back. You'll figure it out soon enough."

Hesitantly, Calleigh turned back and looked into the distance where Speed had directed her. Again, she saw a light and the man. This time, however, she felt a compulsion to go. But before she could leave, she turned once again and wrapped her arms around Speed's neck, silently hugging him. He wrapped his warm arms around her and returned the embrace.

"Don't worry about me," he murmured into her hair. "I'm where I'm supposed to be. You don't have to carry the guilt anymore. Neither does he. Now go on. Go live."

Pulling away from her, Speed turned and walked down the beach, soon disappeared from her sight. With a deep breath, Calleigh closed her eyes and allowed herself to be pulled in the opposite direction. Though, she was walking blindly, she trusted in her path. With each step in the sand, she felt closer and closer to this unknown destination. Soon, she could no longer feel the warmth of the sun on her skin or the sand beneath her feet. Not long after, the memory of the beach and Speed faded away. Yet she kept moving in the darkness, pulled by a force she did not comprehend.

And soon there was a light in the darkness. Her body felt heavy, but she forced herself to it, fighting through the thick fog of fatigue and stillness. In the distance, she could hear a faint voice:

"…we'll have to continue this tomorrow. I'll be back at the regular time and maybe we can talk about finding a handsome prince for you."

She strained to hear the words, but her body fought her. She tried to reach out and grasp something to pull herself out of the darkness, and finally felt her fingers wrap around something warm.

Pushing herself farther and farther, she finally began to see something … actually someone. At least the outline of someone, and she blinked slowly as she forced herself to focus. Everything in her vision remained fuzzy. After a moment of silence, she heard the voice again, this time, closer and more clearly:

"Welcome back, Calleigh. You picked a good day to wake up. A very good day."

* * *

In the history of bad days, Horatio Caine decided this day had to rank in the top ten.

The first call out, a triple homicide in Calle Ocho, came in at three-thirty in the morning. Because the night shift was all tied up with a series of convenience store robberies that turned into murder when a clerk was gunned down, his crew was called in to assist the already swamped second team. In most situations, such a thing was par for the course. However, as of late, his already short-staff have been stretched pretty thin and the evidence of their fatigue was beginning to show.

Especially since they had all worked a double the day before and were already running on empty. By 8 a.m., his people were grumpy, and while they were still totally professional, he could feel the tensions start to rise.

Normally, he would intervene and find a way to alleviate some of the stress. But another call out at 9 a.m. had hindered that plan exponentially. When he arrived at the scene, he was given the biting news that, A) a local news crew had been tipped off about the body dump, had arrived before the first responders and officers and had trampled all over the crime scene; B) that they had moved the body in order to get pictures of the victim's face which were now being plastered all over the television and Internet; C) they were refusing to turn over their raw footage or speak to the investigating officers claiming protection by "the first amendment"; and last, but not least, D) other media had gotten wind of their colleagues actions and were now reporting about just how badly the crime scene had been violated.

So while the officers were reading the television reporter and photographer their rights, he and his team were trying to investigate the scene while – at the same time – desperately searching for any evidence that had not been compromised by the moronic news team.

And all the while, Horatio was avoiding calls from the chief and the State Attorney's Office. Until he had some good news to give them, he reasoned, it was best to keep working.

Snapping off the white latex gloves he wore, he leaned against a nearby tree and took a deep breath, grateful for the moment to himself. The day was already hotter than hell. He left long ago removed his suit coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves, an uncharacteristic move for the Miami-Dade Police lieutenant. But desperate times called for desperate measures. It would be short-lived as he felt someone approach behind him.

"I've got Camden and Natalia doing a perimeter and Frank is still canvassing witnesses," a deep voice behind him said.

Horatio turned and looked at his second-in-command over his rimless sunglasses.

"Camden is walking the crime scene? In this heat?" he asked incredulously. "Jesse, she's 7 months pregnant."

Jesse Cardoza merely smiled sardonically. "I told her to go back to the lab. She told me to go f-"

"What have we got?" Horatio cut him off, his voice betraying his level of exhaustion.

The Latino man shook his head.

"Officially, we might be able to come up with something that will hold up in court."

"How about unofficially?"

"Unofficially, 'might' is a very, very strong word," Jesse replied, placing a heavy emphasis on the second "very". "I hate to say this, but I think we are screwed. The good news is that we know this isn't the primary, so if we can find it we still have a slight shot at finding someone who looks good for this."

"And the bad news?"

"Any defense attorney worth their salt will probably be able to get this thrown out of court with minimal effort thanks to our friends from the Fourth Estate."

"Wonderful," Horatio sighed as he ran a hand through his thick, coppery hair. "How is the team holding up?"

Jesse shrugged, a mannerism that constantly reminded Horatio of Tim Speedle.

"I think lunch on the boss' dime might cheer them up, especially if there is caffeine involved. Well, at least for Natalia."

For the first time that day, Horatio smiled.

"I suppose I could agree to that," he said, grateful for Jesse's attempt to lighten his mood.

"By the way, have you heard when we are going to be getting some more help?"

Bending over to snap his kit closed, Horatio grasped it in one hand, straightened and then started walking toward his Hummer with Jesse close in tow.

"Wolfe's reinstatement papers have been filed, I'm just waiting on IAB to wrap up their red tape," he replied as smoothly as he walked. "Eric's request for reinstatement was denied again, much to my extreme disappointment."

"Stetler's really got it out for him, huh?" Jesse huffed. "It's been two years. The guy wasn't even charged."

"It is what it is … for now," Horatio returned, not wanting to dwell on the incident that led up to his fingerprint expert's dismissal. "He'll try again and we'll help him as best as we can. In the meantime, it looks like we may be getting a rookie. He's completely green, fresh out of the academy, but has a great background for trace. Name is Walter Simmons. Believe me, I had to pull some strings for that one."

Jesse nodded. "I don't even want to know what those strings were attached to, H," he joked as they neared the Hummer. "Have you given any thought to what we are going to do when Camden goes on maternity leave?"

Horatio sighed and opened the back door of the large vehicle.

"Ballistics will be covered," he replied. "How? I don't know yet. Fortunately, Michelle is not due until December. Just keep your fingers crossed that she doesn't go early … though having her out there walking the perimeter just might send her into labor now. Call her in and send her back to the lab. Tell her it's an order from me."

"You're sending me into the battle zone, you know that?" Jesse countered with humor. "Her hormones are all over the place. She's already threatened to shoot Frank and hide his body."

Horatio chuckled and shut the car door.

"Don't mess with Texas. Now go get her, and then help Natalia finish up. I'm heading back to deal with this mess."

"Yes, sir," Jesse said with a wave as he turned and made his way toward the area where Natalia Boa Vista and Michelle Camden were examining something on the ground.

Horatio watched Camden's head snap up as Jesse approached the two women. Natalia looked like one of the numerous . models that lived in Miami. She was tall and slender, with mocha-colored skin, large brown eyes and dark, thick wavy hair. Camden, in contrast was shorter, with close cropped blonde hair, slight blue eyes, freckled skin and a belly that was full with her unborn child. Like Frank Tripp, she was a native Texan with the accent and attitude to prove it. Her husband was in the Marines and had been deployed to the Middle East shortly after the ballistics expert had discovered she was pregnant.

The one thing the two women had in common, their supervisor considered, was that they were both hard workers who were dedicated and passionate about their jobs. Along those same lines, he felt very lucky to have Jesse on his team. His knowledge had been essential to the reputation of the lab after the tragic blows the lab had suffered in a short period of time. He provided good backup to Horatio's leadership.

But no matter how good they were, they would never be as good as the magnificent woman that Horatio used to have by his side.

Opening the driver's side door, Horatio eased into the seat and fired up the engine, cranking the air conditioning up to it's maximum level. Maybe it was the stress of the day or watching his team at work, but he suddenly felt an irrepressible need to go visit his long sleeping friend. It had been a while since he had gone to see Calleigh; each visit that much harder than the one before.

The guilt he felt for her condition was an ever-present weight he carried on his shoulders. No matter what anyone else had ever said, he knew that the responsibility for Calleigh's condition stopped with him and him alone. On many occasions, he held her limp hand in his own and offered God a trade – begging Him to take his life in exchange for hers.

But even though the doctors, including Alexx – whose opinion he trusted above all others – had said that Calleigh would never wake from her coma, he continued to pray for her to open her eyes and come back to him; always hanging onto that small shred of hope that this one time in his life, God would hear him.

He would continue to go to Serenity Valley. He would continue to sit by her bedside and beg her to wake up. He would continue to keep her close, because when it came down to it, he couldn't fathom his life with out her.

It was a fact - he feared more than anything else - that he discovered too late.

His thoughts full of Calleigh, he drove back to the lab slowly, wanting to avoid the inevitable argument he was going to have about the compromised crime scene. His cell rang again, and he grimaced, believing it was the chief again.

But his heart practically stopped when he read the caller identification. Pulling off the road, he hesitated answering the still ringing cellular, terrified to his very core about the possibility of a conversation he never wanted to have.

Finally, however, he pushed a button and held the phone up to his ear. His breath caught in his lungs, he struggled just to say his name. He silently begged God for a miracle.

"Horatio here."

There was a brief pause on the other end, causing Horatio to close his eyes and wait for the inevitable pain to come.

"Mr. Caine, this is Kenwall Duquesne," the man drawled, his Louisiana accent heavy with emotion. "I think … I promised I would call you …"

Horatio removed his sunglasses as the tears started to well up in his eyes. Memories of Calleigh's bright smile and radiant beauty flashes behind his eyelids.

"_Take care of her, Speed,"_ he prayed silently as he waited for Calleigh's father to say the earth-shattering words.

"I'm here, sir," Horatio murmured.

Kenwall seemed to be building up his strength, and Horatio's already broken heart bled more for the other man. He knew Calleigh had been everything to her father.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he responded, this time a bit more clearly. "I knew you would want to know. I figured you'd want to be here … to see her."

Horatio's eyes opened slightly and he frowned in confusion. His heart began pounding furiously in his chest.

"Sir?"

On the other end, Kenwall coughed a little, then said the most beautiful words Horatio had ever heard in his life:

"She's come out of it. Calleigh's awake."

Stunned beyond all reason, Horatio's grip on the phone loosened. Inside, his mind was in overload, trying to comprehend what he was being told. That after two years of praying, begging and bedside vigils, they finally, finally had their miracle.

Tears ran down his cheeks and over his mouth, which was slowly curving upward into a broad smile.

"_She's awake. She's awake. She's awake." _The mantra practically sang in his mind like the sweetest of all music.

He realized his lapse when he felt the phone practically slip from him hand. Tightening his grasp, he held the phone back up to his ear as he threw the Hummer back into drive and headed for the MacArthur Causeway, the fastest route he knew to the care facility.

"I'm on my way," he said with fierce determination. "I'll be there soon."

His words heavy with double meaning: Though his voice was talking in the phone to Kenwall, his heart was speaking to Calleigh.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	3. Chapter 3

Time After Time

This takes place after Season 3 episode "Money Plane." Calleigh is injured and is in a coma for two years. When she finally wakes in 2007, she has to reclaim the life that had been passing her by.

Ducaine all the way.

Rating: T (for now)

Thank you for the reviews I have received. I hope you are all enjoying the story. This installment is a little taste of background.

**May 23, 2005**

Horatio didn't realize that he had been holding his breath until the chirp of his cell phone alerted him back to reality. He removed it from his pocket, all the while never taking his eyes off the sky. In the distance, the small, private plane carrying Ray, Ray Jr. and Yelina away from him got smaller and smaller until it seemed to be swallowed by the great blue horizon.

He cleared his throat, loosening the lump that had started to form there, and said a silent prayer for their safety. He had just gotten Ray back, and now he had to say goodbye again. But at least now he could rest somewhat easier in the knowledge that his younger brother was alive and well, and most importantly, with his family.

And though he could not deny the heartache he felt over the absence of Yelina and Ray Jr. from his life, Horatio knew that they were where they belonged. His family was as it should be. It was right.

Horatio turned and left the plane hangar. The phone trilled once more as he walked to the Hummer. Flipping it open, he held the small device to his ear.

"Caine," he said gruffly as he opened the driver's side door and eased into the large, imposing silver vehicle and fired up the engine, pulling into traffic cautiously.

"H, you better get back here ASAP," Eric's frantic voice rang loudly over the phone. In the background, Horatio could hear people shouting and lots of movement.

Alarmed, Horatio turned on the Hummer's flashers and pressed down on the accelerator.

"Eric, what the hell is going on?" he yelled, manically weaving his way through traffic toward MDPD CSI headquarters.

"Hagen's dead," Eric replied breathlessly and Horatio could tell he was either running or walking somewhere very fast. "It looks like he shot himself in the head. We found him in the ballistics lab."

_Shit,_ Horatio thought to himself, knowing how distressed the detective had been in recent weeks. John Hagen had been Ray's former partner and had spent most of the last four years trying to shake the bad rep that Ray had gotten while working undercover for the NARCO unit.

Everyone said Ray went bad. Deep down, Horatio knew that Hagen had believed it as well.

The detective always had this arrogant quality that Horatio never fully trusted. Still, he was a brother-in-arms, and Horatio had to give him that respect.

However, when Bob Keaton, the man convicted of Ray's murder had been set free, Hagen had become more withdrawn to a point of being menacing.

Guiltily, he rebuked himself for not paying closer attention to Hagen's behavior. He should have helped the younger man more. Perhaps if he had …

"There's more," Eric's voice broke through Horatio's thoughts and brought him back to the moment. Swerving onto a side street, he turned again, now only a few miles from the lab.

That's when it occurred to Horatio where Hagen had been found. His gut wrenched with a sick feeling, induced by the memory of a bitter exchange of words he once witnessed in the ballistics lab.

He prayed his instincts were off. He begged to be wrong, but a sinking feeling in his heart told him he already knew the answer.

"Eric … where's Calleigh?"

The young Cuban paused, and Horatio ground his teeth in fury and despair.

_I should have been there. I should have stopped this._

"Alexx is working on her now." Eric responded with great sadness and Horatio felt his world begin to spin. "She's alive, but Hagen messed her up bad. The paramedics just got here."

Hanging up the phone without saying anything else, Horatio gripped the steering wheel and pushed the Hummer harder toward the lab. Refusing to think about a world without Calleigh Duquesne in it, he silently begged her to hang on.

_Fight Calleigh. You fight this. Don't give up._

_

* * *

_

**Sept. 15, 2007**

The hallway seemed unending as Horatio practically raced across the shiny linoleum floors of the long-term care ward. He knew he shouldn't be running, but he didn't care. He was oblivious to the stares of the staff and visitors who watched the red-haired man sprint through the corridors.

For two years, time appeared to move in slow motion. Some days were easier than others. Most days, the guilt he felt weighed so heavy on him he could barely breathe. He couldn't allow himself to enjoy anything, knowing that Calleigh might never again experience simple wonders like a sunrise, or the smell of the tulips her father had told him she so adored.

Some days just knowing the wonderful woman he knew was trapped in the tomb of darkness that was her own body was more than he could bear. He couldn't shake the idea that she was merely sleeping, and every time he visited her, he expected her to wake up and smile at him.

Once, he even dreamt that she woke. Her glimmering eyes opened, she smiled a brilliant white smile and teased him for not working. They joked for a few minutes before she sat up in her bed and stretched luxuriously, like a princess who had been woken from a long nap.

It was as if no time had passed at all. His heart was filled with joy.

And then he woke up, and the pain at losing her again nearly pushed him over the edge. He lost faith in practically everything: Science, justice, and faith.

God. He could never reconcile that something so wrong could happen to someone as good and pure as Calleigh.

Now, despite her father's words, he still couldn't let himself believe that the wait was finally over. He turned the corner of the hallway where her room was located and crashed into a housekeeping cart outside one of the other rooms. At the end of the hall, outside Calleigh's room, stood Kenwall Duquesne and a small group of doctors. The group turned at the ruckus caused from Horatio's accident as he pushed the cart out of the way and headed, a bit more slowly, toward them. As he approached, he could see the emotions on Calleigh's father's face. His eyes and his cheeks were red and puffy, but his smile was wide and broad.

Just like hers had always been.

Kenwall met Horatio halfway and extended his hand to the other man.

"Lieutenant Caine," Kenwall beamed, "we've got our girl back."

Horatio smiled, but said nothing, heading for Calleigh's room. He had to see her for himself.

_Trust, but verify._

But before he could reach the door, a portly, balding doctor who resembled a shorter, stouter version of Frank Tripp stepped in front of him and held his hands up to stop Horatio.

"Sir," the doctor said, "if you'll just give me a minute to go over a few things with you, I think you will better understand who and what you are about to see."

Horatio frowned and considered grabbing the man by the collar and throwing him out of the way.

"What do you mean?" He asked impatiently. "I know who I'm going to see. I don't need to be introduced to Calleigh."

The doctor shook his bald head.

"That's not what I meant," he said in exasperation. "Please, if you'll just step over here, I'll explain everything."

Refusing to budge, Horatio put his hands on his hips and glared at the doctor.

"Either explain it to me here or get out of my way," he growled.

The doctor huffed but acquiesced.

"Fine," he retorted. "I'm Doctor Callahan, and I've been working on Miss Duquesne's case for the last 13 months. As you know, Miss Duquesne has been with us in a comatose state for roughly two years. In 2005, she suffered a severe head trauma-"

Horatio winced at the memory, but allowed Callahan to continue.

"And coma was deliberately induced by pharmaceutical agents in order to preserve her higher brain functions following the trauma to her brain. This also served to save her from extreme pain during healing of injuries or diseases. In order for a person to maintain consciousness, two important neurological components must function impeccably. The first is the cerebral cortex which is the gray matter covering the outer layer of the brain, and the other is a structure located in the brainstem, called reticular activating system. Injury to either or both of these components is sufficient to cause a patient to experience a coma. Miss Duquesne suffered severe trauma to the cerebral cortex, but her RAS was unharmed."

Horatio nodded, having read more than a lifetime's worth of journals on the subject in the last two years.

"Yes," he responded to the doctor. "The human cortex is a group of tightly dense, gray matter composed of the nucleus of the neurons whose axons then form the white matter, and is responsible for the perception of the universe, relay of the sensory input via the thalamic pathway, and most importantly directly or indirectly in charge of all the neurological functions, from simple reflexes to complex thinking. But when her injuries healed, Calleigh remained in a comatose state, despite an initial prognosis that she would wake."

Hearing that Horatio had something of a working knowledge of the subject eased the doctor's manner some.

"Exactly," Callahan interjected. "Diagnosis of coma is simple, however, diagnosing the cause of the underlying disease process often proves to be challenging. The first priority in treatment of a comatose patient is stabilization. Once it was determined Miss Duquesne was stable, investigations were performed to assess the underlying cause of her continued coma. In the initial assessment of coma, the level of consciousness by spontaneously exhibited actions, response to vocal stimuli and painful stimuli was all tested; this is known as the AVPU or alert, vocal stimuli, painful stimuli, unconscious scale. More elaborate scales, such as the Glasgow Coma Scale, quantify an individual's reactions such as eye opening, movement and verbal response on a scale; Glasgow Coma Scale is an indication of the extent of brain injury varying from three, indicating severe brain injury and death, to a maximum of fifteen, indicating mild or no brain injury. In the beginning, Miss Duquesne was classified as an eleven. But as time progressed and she showed no improvement on the AVPU scale, her Glasgow scale classification dipped lower and lower until she was classified as a five. That was six months ago. By all indications, we believed that she would continue to deteriorate until …"

Horatio looked at the floor. "Until she died," he finished for the doctor.

Callahan sighed. "Before today, I would have given her another eight months, tops."

Horatio looked toward the door of Calleigh's room, the impact of what the doctor had said caused his thoughts to swirl. Had he really come so close to losing her forever?

"I need to see her."

Callahan put his hand up one more time.

"Please, just a few more things you should know," he said, capturing Horatio's impatient attention once more. "I'm not going to insult your intelligence, sir, but you have to remember this won't be like the movies. Miss Duquesne will not be sitting up, talking and moving about like she just woke up from a catnap. Much of her body is in atrophy, including her ocular and vocal muscles. She can't speak and she will only be able to see the outlines of people, like shadows. She's been fed through a feeding tube during her entire coma and that is not going to change right away. We're going to be moving her to Dade General Hospital for tests to see how pronounced the muscle deterioration is. From there, we'll be able to determine what kind of quality of life issues Miss Duquesne will be dealing with. Then, if possible, there will be rehabilitation. Needless to say, she's going to be in for a long struggle. Her life is not going to be easy."

Horatio swallowed hard and fought the water forming in his eyes.

"Calleigh's a fighter," he said softly. "It's a miracle she's awake at all. If anyone can come back from this, it's her. I know it."

_I know her. By heart._

With that, Horatio turned away from the doctor and ever-so-slowly opened the door to Calleigh's room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Time After Time**

This takes place after Season 3 episode "Money Plane." Calleigh is injured and is in a coma for two years. When she finally wakes in 2007, she has to reclaim the life that had been passing her by.

Ducaine all the way.

Rating: T (for now)

Thank you to my Chapter 3 reviewers - Amythest Lilly, Pinkyster, Ajay 1960 and Jasmine105 - you comments are appreciated more than you know. I hope you all enjoy this next piece.

* * *

She knew he was there.

She couldn't see properly and her body still refused to respond to the demands of her mind, but still she knew the exact moment he arrived by the way the energy of her surroundings changed. She could feel the power of his strength through the haze of lethargy. She remembered how his presence had once effected her, how the electric tendrils of his determination – though unintentional on his behalf - seemed to reach into her very being, inspiring and amazing her at the same time.

His effect on her was elemental.

Calleigh tried to turn her head toward what she assumed was the door when she heard the soft "click" of his entrance. From the time she had awakened, she was confused and desperately wanted answers. She wanted to know why she felt like she was being held down by a force more powerful than any she had ever experienced. She wanted to know why her vision was so impaired and why she could only see shadows. She wanted to know what entity had not only taken her voice, but also her ability to use it as well. She wanted, no needed, more than anything to talk to someone – anyone – but her body was rebelling against her wishes.

In what seemed to her to be a short time, so many people had visited her – mostly strangers - but they all spoke OVER her and not TO her. Her mind was screaming for the truth, one that no one was willing to give her. Not even her beloved "Daddy."

She heard the people talking in low voices in the background. She felt their emotions in the air. A strange combination of joy and worried unease filled the environment around her.

Calleigh's body was so tired, but her mind was anxious. She began to wonder if she was dreaming …

… until she _felt_ him approach. His footsteps were quiet, but she could hear his shallow breaths as he neared her. His energy was different now, and it changed her space. It was tentative, unsure of how to proceed.

In the entire time she had known him, Calleigh had never known Horatio Caine to be unsure of anything. He carried with him a pain that was palpable. He was afraid of something, a realization that terrified her.

She wanted to reach out to him, to take his hand and offer something akin to support. She dug deep, willing her limbs to move and her eyes to focus. But despite her best efforts, her body again betrayed her.

_Oh God, Horatio. What has happened to me? Why am I like this? Talk to me, please._

Trying to push past the fear that was quickly filling her mind, she found she was able to blink her eyelids and she hoped that he would understand that she knew he was there.

She felt the balance of the bed change under her as he sat next to her and took her left hand into his own. She looked in his direction and blinked again, amazed at how warm his hands were. It seemed like she had been cold for so long …

"Calleigh."

His voice was stronger than his energy, but it's countenance still filled Calleigh with hope. Her own fear began to wane.

"Calleigh, sweetheart, it's Horatio."

Internally, she laughed at the absurdity that he thought she wouldn't know him.

_HIM of all people._

"Calleigh, I saw you blink a moment ago. Can you blink again, to let me know you understand what I'm saying?"

_Of course I understand you, _her mind yelled as she blinked. _This is ridiculous!_

He exhaled deeply, but remained tense – the way he always was when trying to solve a mystery. Calleigh blinked again, hoping he would understand it as a signal to continue.

"That's good," he said softly. "From now on, when I ask you a question, could you please blink once for 'yes' and twice for 'no.' Do you understand?"

Though she couldn't see his expression, Calleigh slowly rolled her eyes and blinked once.

_Whatever you want, Horatio. Just please tell me what the hell is going on._

Her lieutenant cleared his throat and paused, finding difficulty in the way to proceed. Frustrated with the lack of communication, Calleigh blinked several times to let him know her displeasure. In return, Horatio squeezed her hand and caressed the skin on her wrist to calm her.

"It's okay, Calleigh," he said soothingly. "I'm sorry. I just don't …"

He sat up straighter on the bed and pulled himself together. He felt guilty that he was grateful her eyesight hadn't returned yet. If it had, she would see the tears on his face …

"Has anyone explained to you where you are?" he said after pulling himself together.

Calleigh blinked twice.

_Finally, we're getting somewhere, _she thought.

Horatio paused again. "Okay," he breathed. "I'm going to tell you what is going on, but I don't want to upset you. So if it becomes too much, blink three times for me. Can you do that?"

When she immediately blinked once, Horatio finally understood that despite her paralysis, his unshakeable Bullet Girl's mind was still sharp. He quickly thanked God for yet another miracle. It gave him the strength to continue.

"You are in a special hospital," he explained gently. "You can't move or see because you have been asleep for a long time. Your muscles are in a state of atrophy."

_Atrophy?_ Calleigh thought, alarmed. _My God, how long was I out?_

"You were hurt at the lab," Horatio continued, his voice heavy with caution, "and you suffered a serious head trauma. The best shot you had at survival was to be put into an induced coma. The hospital you are at now specializes in the treatment of coma patients."

This information shocked Calleigh more.

_What trauma? What happened to me? How long have I been here? Why is this happening? _The questions flooded her mind, and she wanted to cry in frustration that she couldn't relay them to Horatio.

However, something within him could feel her despair and he leaned forward on the bed so that he was closer to her. With one hand, he softly touched her cheek and caressed her forehead, his thumb brushing the outermost corner of her eye. In the dark haze, she could almost see his features. She wanted badly to see his face, to read his deep blue eyes. But at that moment, she drew upon his renewed strength and calmed herself.

"Calleigh," he whispered, speaking to her in a way that made her feel protected. "You've been through a great deal. And there is going to be time for more answers. The most important thing now is that you are awake. You have the best care and you are going to get better. You're strong, possibly the strongest person I know. You will beat this. And I'm going to do everything I can to help you along the way. I promise."

His words and his gentle touch combined with her current predicament overwhelmed her. She tried to reach him, tried to force all of her energy into just being able to squeeze his hand. Anything to let him know that she understood and was grateful that he was there with her.

_Please God, just let me move a finger. Something. Please._

But her hand remained still. Overcome by her inability to control anything in her life, she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. She blinked several times to contain them, but soon she felt a warm, wet tickle as the tears slid out the corner of her eyes down the sides of her face.

Horatio was right there with her. His own heart ripped into two when he saw the tears streaking down her face. He had no idea what she was truly feeling. He only knew that she was suffering and that nearly leveled him.

But for the past two years, he had begged and bargained. He had promised to do anything and everything to help her if she would only open her eyes and come back to the life she was supposed to be living. Now she and God had made good on their end of the deal, and he had no intention of reneging on his part. Calleigh was back in his life, and now she needed someone to be strong for her.

_I owe her at least that much,_ he thought as he summoned up the courage to take on her pain.

Then, as tenderly as he could, he reached one hand underneath her neck and lifted gently. When she was off the bed enough for him to get his other arm under her shoulders, he lifted her into an embrace. Her limp body was heavy in his arms and he was extra careful not to disturb the feeding tube. Still, she was warm and the feeling of her heartbeat against his body strengthened the conviction of his promise.

He stroked her soft hair and whispered words of support in her ear.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I know this is hard for you. We've just got to give it time. This will change."

Held steadfast in Horatio's arms, Calleigh soon felt her emotions begin to subside and suddenly she felt very tired. She started to feel herself drift, but mentally shook herself awake, terrified that if she slept, she might not wake again.

_I'm in Hell,_ she thought bitterly. _I can't stand this._

As if he again sensed her distress, Horatio kissed her head and slowly lowered her back to the bed.

"Rest Calleigh," the words rumbled low in his chest. "I've got you. I'll be here when you wake up."

Despite the stress of her situation, or her inability to vocalize her fears, Calleigh knew instinctively that he would be there. Horatio's words and actions began to calm her until she was finally able to feel at ease under his protection. And though she still had no idea how long she had been under the coma's dark spell, she felt certain beyond all degrees of doubt that Horatio had been with her along.

_I trust you, Horatio,_ she thought as she began to drift again.

Once he had her situated, her tired eyes fluttered and closed as she slipped into a restful slumber.

Horatio watched Calleigh succumb to her weary body, remaining at her bedside until her eyelids began to flicker in REM sleep. Easing off the bed, he bent over her, softly kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear:

"I'm right here, Cal. I'll always be here for you."

Pulling a nearby chair closer to Calleigh's bed, Horatio pulled his cell phone from his pocket as he sat down. Getting comfortable, he reached over to the bed and clasped the sleeping beauty's hand with one of his own. With the other, he dialed the familiar phone number and held the device to his ear. He knew he had several calls to make and there was much work to take care of back at the lab, but he had no intention of leaving Calleigh's bedside anytime soon. Some things took a higher priority over others, he reasoned.

Calleigh was given a second chance. That was all that mattered.

After a minute, he heard his friend's voice answer on the other end of the line and he smiled, internally rejoicing in the news he had to share.

"Alexx ... she's come back to us."


End file.
